Jackson (Wild Boys After Dark, #3)(28)

Laney sighed. “Actually, I was thinking that I’d—” She stopped herself. She didn’t want to go to his apartment. She didn’t want to go to anyone. The hell with him not liking her apartment or feeling confined. It was time for her to do what was right for her—regardless of what the men in her life thought that was. “Can you come by so we can talk?”

“Uh…yeah…sure,” he stammered.

He obviously wasn’t waiting on pins and needles for her answer, which upset and relieved her at once.

***

IT WAS MIDNIGHT and NightCaps was still crawling with single women looking for a good time—exactly what Jackson thought he needed to forget the fact that Laney hadn’t returned his text. And to forget what an * he’d been to her. And to forget that he was trying to forget her.

He sucked back his third drink, knowing he hadn’t had enough to drink, because in his mind he was looking for Laney. His eyes trailed over his potential pickups. Blondes, brunettes, redheads. All there for the taking, and every one of them made his gut clench tight. It wasn’t their looks that turned him off, or the way they licked their lips or thrust out their perky breasts, as if they were offering themselves up for a quick f*ck. They were pretty enough, flirty enough, and looked easy enough for a night of forgetting everything else in the world. But what they weren’t, and what they could never be, was Laney.

There was no pushing thoughts of Laney aside or pretending that he could ever have another casual relationship with any other woman, because Laney had ruined that for him. He couldn’t even jerk off last night without seeing her face—and then he couldn’t do it because he’d hurt her so badly that it was her sad eyes he’d seen.

He’d thought of her every damn second of the day—unable to work, unable to so much as sift through photographs without his mind reverting back to the silent car ride home. It didn’t help that he hadn’t slept well since he’d found out about the proposal, and hadn’t slept a wink since they’d returned to the city. There was no denying his feelings for her, and right now that was about the only thing in this world that he was certain of.

He slapped a handful of money on the bar, and Dylan looked at him with a knowing grin as he picked up the bills.

“Giving up?” Dylan asked.

“I never give up.” Jackson rose to his feet. “But I am done with this bullshit. I’m going to get my woman.”

“That’s what I meant, smart-ass. Giving up on the find-me-a-blonde-for-the-night shit, which we all know is just code for find-me-a-woman-to-make-me-stop-thinking-of-Erica.”

With a scowl meant to shut him the f*ck up rather than confirm what they both knew was true, Jackson left the bar and headed straight to the convenience store to buy a gallon of ice cream. At least if she turned him away, she’d have something to enjoy when he was gone.

Twenty minutes later he paced the hallway outside her apartment door, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to say. Everything sounded lame, rehearsed, and not at all like it would come out of his mouth.

Fuck it.

He could do only so much. Be so much. He had to trust his gut that whatever came out of his mouth would be the right thing to say—even though it rarely was.

Fuck.

Just as he lifted his hand to knock, her door swung open and he came face-to-face with Bryce. Anger he hadn’t realized was curled in his gut like a fist unfurled and blazed like fire.

“You.” Bryce seethed. His face was red, and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.

“Ricker.” He shifted his eyes to Laney, huddled on the couch with her feet beneath her, her eyes wet with tears as she met his gaze over her shoulder. “What the f*ck did you do?” He shouldered past Bryce, dropping the ice cream to the floor, and went to Laney.

“What the f*ck did I do?” Bryce snapped.

Jackson released Laney from his embrace and rose to his full height with the challenge in Bryce’s voice. He closed the distance between them as Bryce said, “I treated her like a lady while you treated her like a whore—and apparently that’s what she’d rather be—”

Jackson’s fist connected with Bryce’s jaw, sending him sprawling against the wall.

“Jackson!” Laney sprang off the couch and grabbed his arm. “Don’t!”

Bryce held up both hands in front of his face with fear in his eyes. Blood dripped down his chin from a split in his lip.

“Don’t, Jackson. Please,” Laney pleaded.

Jackson stepped in so close to Bryce’s trembling face that he could practically taste the blood on his mouth.

“If you ever use that word in connection with Laney again, I’ll kill you.”

Bryce’s eyes shot to Laney. “You two deserve each other.”

Jackson grabbed him by the collar and slammed his back up against the wall. “You’re damn right we do, and don’t you ever forget it. She’s too much woman for you. Hell, a rag doll is too much woman for you.” He shoved him out the door and turned to Laney, gathering her in close.

“You hit him.” The surprise in her voice startled him.

He drew back and searched her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I saw you, and then he said that shit…Laney, you can’t marry him. I know I don’t deserve you—I have never committed to a single damn woman—except for you. I’ve stayed true to our pact, Laney. For thirteen years. That has to count for something.”